


Memories

by di_lamerr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:36:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3741076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/di_lamerr/pseuds/di_lamerr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Attack of the Plot Bunny for the Fanfiction Writer Group on Facebook challenge - Opulent<br/>A 300-500 word drabble, on the chosen topic.<br/>I looked at it as a lavish moment between two people, pleasure as opulence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

.  
He breathes, “Watch.”  
I still my frantic tugs on his sleeve and allow him to turn me towards them to watch.

He holds her back pressed against his front, lips against her ear, much the same I'm being held; but his hands delve under her skirts. She makes the softest mewling cries as his lips move against the shell of her ear; I wonder how much closer I'd need to be to hear?  
We are close, too close, the rustle of his velvet against her sequined lace reaches us just as easily as her soft keening of his name at the movement of his hand, and the tinkle of her bracelets, pearls against gold.

We watch her grind against him and I swear I can hear the catch of her lace against the jeweled buttons of his frock coat.  
“Watch.” I'm drawn back from my fixating on the buttons.  
A single rivulet of sweat runs down his face, and I realize how hot it is, and in heavy formal wear how much hotter they must be, yet neither complains as he draws her slowly closer to climax.  
This is not a new dance for them this stolen moment, and I realize that even the heat adds to it, the crush of it against them spurring them on.  
I watch her her hips stop their roll, she trembles, her pale lips part, a flush creeps through her makeup, her eyes flutter closed, he smiles and lowers her skirt, for a orgasm it was a gentle thing. 

Behind me my love moves silently pulling me away, I go, stepping out of the memory with a lurch.  
“I had forgotten you had ruined my dress that night.”  
There is a pinkness to his cheeks that I ignore. Instead I wrap my arms around him pulling him tight and whisper, “Next Ministry ball, we should both wear velvet.”


End file.
